Up Until The Lights Go Out
by Evelette
Summary: Her brain managed two coherent words as the figure lumbered forward. Tall and lanky, and as the streetlight revealed that painted visage she managed a few more. Purple, green, Joker, and the most intense notion of utter terror she had ever felt. As he crouched in front of her, amongst the dead bodies, she shook. He would kill her, she was certain. Joker/OC
1. Subtle As An Earthquake

She watched the clock tick. The seconds driving her mad with boredom. She shifted for the thousandth time, squirming uncomfortably, her knee bouncing in place. She worked in a tiny mom and pop bakery tucked away in some misbegotten corner of Gotham, quite subtly titled Panama. A red smock hung from her neck, embroidered with the company logo, hiding the tight jeans and the simple black blouse from view. Her hair was bedraggled, small wisps of hair had fallen from her ponytail and fell haphazardly across her face, behind the counter, she perched upon a stool, fidgeting in nervous anxiety as another minute ticked by. The tone of the door inviting in a customer drew her irises away from the clock resting upon the wall. She filled his order and took his money completely on autopilot, ignoring the fact entirely that he was starring at her. She did what she had too in order to pay the bills, nothing more and nothing less... and the stares she had long since grown accustomed too.

The bakery smelled of a mixture of sweets and bread and she found the scent clung to her slightly after working here for so long. Owned by two elderly souls the company had withstood the test of surviving Gotham time and time again. It wasn't the best or the ritziest place, but it certainly made good product for a halfway decent price. It attracted customers of all sorts and she had long since learned to take everything in stride. A few tables scattered along the windows, a long counter that displayed their product and a spare counter with every type of topping and treat you could possibly think of. Small and quaint, but with a homey feel too it. Beneath the counter, her knee began bouncing once again, eyes returning to the clock as the hours dragged on.

Gotham turned black, a lit with police sirens, wailing fire engines and explosions, the night here was dark and filled with horrors unimaginable. The most noticed, at least at the present, being the Joker. The menace whom had not only fled police custody but had now escaped Arkham... and had blown half the building straight to hell. She had seen glimpses of him throughout well Gotham, she wasn't big on watching the news, she didn't buy into the need to hear every depressing story that had occurred the day prior. She much preferred to cling to the brief sanity that she withheld, but that didn't stop every other soul from discussing him. Gnawing on her bottom lip, her leg bounced harder. All she wanted was to be out of here, return to her little crap hole of an apartment and sleep. Was that truly too much to ask? She sighed softly when the bell jingled once again. She rose off the stool trotting slowly over to the counter. "'Aye girl, I'll have a bagel and a ..." The voice died as she looked up at the muscular black man before her. He blinked rather comically, at her, and she mentally groaned, she knew what was coming next. "Woah your eyes, is that some kinda contact trick?" She felt herself subconsciously shaking her head.

"Heterochromia iridum." The two words tumbled from her lips without pretense. "I was born with em." She stepped away to retrieve the pastry, bagging it swiftly and returning to him quickly. "Anything else?" He shook his head now, fishing out a few bills from his coat pocket before thanking her with a quick dip of his head and vanishing. She wasn't ugly by any means, but she certainly wasn't a super model. She was small, dainty almost. Standing at a small five feet three inches and bottoming out at a tiny hundred and five, she wasn't much of a fighter and wasn't the bell of the ball. Her waist was tiny, her curves generous for her body mass. Her hair was a long curtain of black that fell to her lower back when released from her ponytail... but her eyes, one from her mother and one from her father. A gleaming gold on the left and a crystalline blue on the right. For as far back as she could remember this oddity had been the bane of her existence. She was teased, ridiculed, taunted, and nary a day went by that people didn't react in one form or another.

The clock chimed ten o clock and faster than most people could move, the smock was tossed up onto the peg on the wall, she had grabbed her keys and her wallet, slid them into her pants pocket and headed out the door, locking the shop up tight. She tugged her jacket on and quickly shoved her hands into the pockets, goosebumps breaking out across her skin as she met with the icy air of Gotham. She kept her head down and tried to avoid any eye contact. You didn't make eye contact and lived to tell the tale in Gotham, especially not here in the ghetto and she had no desire to die just yet. Hugging herself a bit tighter she picked up the pace. Only another ten minutes until she got to her apartment. She turned down a street and instantly froze, realizing the mistake a fraction of a second to late.

"Well, well, well... look Dannie, a stray pussy seems to have wandered onto our fence." The flicking of a switchblade accompanied the menacing words and the man took several steps closer to her, his two comrades grinning just as cruelly as they followed close behind. She wasted no more time, turning tail and taking off, their footsteps echoed just a heartbeat behind her. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, but not even that was enough to keep her from them. The leader grasped her arm and slammed her into the wall of one of the brick buildings, a stuttered groan pulled from her vocals as she tried to regain her suddenly irregular vision. She struggled harshly against the fingers that held her trapped, but it was all in vain. The other two moved in restraining her. The ring leader trailed the knife across her cheek, shushing her softly as the blade left a little red line and a mild burning pain across her cheek. Her jacket was harshly ripped in half as they peeled it off her arms. "Hush there pretty dove, we wont leave unsatisfied, might as well give in." He dug the knife through her blouse and bra, ripping away the tattered cloth as though it personally offended him. Greedy eyes devoured her now bare chest. Tears flooded her two toned eyes as she struggled, a scream, muffled by the fierce smack of a sweaty palm across her lips attempted to escape her.

A hand, thick and obtrusive, slid down into her jeans, popping the button and tugging the tight denim down to her knees, the knife tore through her thigh and pain laced up her side, momentarily drowned out by the adrenaline coursing through her body. They laughed, squeezing her breasts, blunt nails scraped along her abdomen leaving thick red welts. She squeezed her eyes shut, praying, hoping, pleading with anyone that would listen in her mind to make them stop, to have this be over and make them go away. A thick hand had coiled around her hip and forced her legs apart, when a dull bang resounded through the air followed by a heavy thump. The hands froze on their places across her body and she opened her eyes. The man with the switchblade lay twitching sporadically, a pool of dark blood expanding wider as the bullet wound in the center of his forehead slowly drained out. Two more dull bangs and the two other would-be rapists met the same fate as they slumped to the ground, lifeless. Wild and terrified, her two eyes darted all around the ally, as she tugged up her jeans and instinctively slid down the wall, crumpling into the fetal position as she sought the assassin whom had been her savior.

"Ha. Ha. He. Ho. Ha." The dark, chilling voice seemed to growl the syllables. The powerful tone bounded off the walls, surrounding her, trapping her. Head snapping to the left, her brain managed to process two words from the looming figure in the darkness. Lanky and tall. The proverbial dear in headlights, she remained quivering against the wall. Whether from cold, fear, adrenaline, or an odd combination of all three, she would never know, but as the figure drew closer, and the street lamps overhead illuminated him, he was unmistakeable. Purple. Purple trench coat, slacks and a purple hexagonal shirt, barely peeking over the top of the forest green vest. Patchy white make-up covered his face and a red smile stretched higher over the lengthier scar on the right, than on the left. Two massive black holes, jagged and rough encompassed eyes nearly as black and cold as the night. Dirty blonde hair hung in clumped strands, sloppily dyed green. He stood directly in front of her before slowly squatting down, resting his elbows on his knees., his shoes groaned as he did this.

"Y-you're shoes aren't green or purple." It was the first thought that popped into her brain and the first thing to fly from her mouth. His boots, were, in fact brown. Something akin to what you would find in the army. A painted eyebrow rose high and a wicked smirk crawled across his face. He cocked his head to the left as though bemused by this observation. His tongue darted to lick the corner of his mouth, the beginnings of his scar, before he swallowed.

"Uh... no... they aren't. _Apparently_ purple doesn't sell well, unless you're into heels... I'm The_ Joker_... not The _Queen_." The drawled reply came low and menacing and despite herself a barely there smile, cracked her panicked facade, before she quickly remembered just who was perched before her... and the gun that still dangled from his fingertips. She gulped slightly, eyes darting fearfully to the gun and back up to his face. He never looked away from her face, scrutinizing her, his eyes bouncing back and forth between her two different colored irises. Studying each individually as if he found them fascinating. Goosebumps broke out across her flesh, she could really feel that biting chill of cold now, but she didn't dare move.

"You saved me." Another brilliant observation fell from her lips and before she could stop her traitorous larynx from sealing her fate, her loose tongue flickered the final nail in her coffin. "Don't you usually play the bad guy?" Instantly her hand shot up to slap over her own mouth, but again the madman surprised her, smirk expanding into a full blown smile at her response. Obvious amusement danced through that dark gaze, and she prayed for the second time that her mouth wouldn't open again... she was screwed regardless but it was best not to piss him off. She wasn't a masochist by any means. The Joker shifted, lifting the hand without the gun to her cheek. Gently and with a tenderness that shattered her already frazzled mind, he tucked a stray piece of her hair behind her ear, tracing the couture of her jaw with a gloved hand. Silence reigned and she didn't even dare breathe, remaining completely silent and still as he touched her at will. His hand never slipped below her jawline and a contemplative hum pulled from his mouth.

"What is your name dollface?" He rumbled low in his throat. It was a demand and she shivered from the underlying sinister tone that churned her innards. She opened her mouth to answer, when a shout shattered the tense quiet.

"Freeze!" The bold cop shouted at The Joker, obviously thinking he had been the one to strip her of her clothing. The Joker growled, a deep, rumbling snarl that bubbled up through his larynx as he turned his head to face the cop, shaking his head like a dog. His lips curled back over his teeth, completing the look of a wild, feral animal.

"I was _talking_... to the lady. Didn't your mama ever teach you not to... _interrupt_?" Cruel and mean, his tones dropped several octaves, scolding the officer as though speaking to a dense, small child.

"Drop the weapon, put your hands behind your head and get on your knees." The officer snapped, clearly not amused, The Joker's scowl became a smirk and slowly he lowered the gun to the ground before releasing it.

"C'mon _officer_... we haven't even been on the first date. You could...at least... buy me dinner." The Joker drawled as the cop relaxed if only minimally, but that touch of overconfidence was all the Joker needed. Faster than either she or the cop could register, the police officer joined the body count as the bullet lodged deep into the frontal lobe of his brain and he pitched forward. The Joker sighed, his elbows returning to drape casually over his thighs, mumbling to himself as he dug a few more bullets out of his pockets. "_People_ these days... no manners, no respect." He snapped the chamber back into place before his eyes flickered back to her. "Now where were we? Hurm... ah yes... your _name._" He snarled like a wild dog and she was quick to answer.

"Evelette. Just Evelette. No last name for orphans." She blurted quickly, afraid that he would grew angry if he thought she was withholding something. She trembled beneath the leather of his glove as his fingers coiled around her chin, holding her in place, not hard enough to bruise, but firmly enough so that she knew he was there. He wanted all of her attention...which he would have had regardless if he was touching her, but the touch did a nice job of terrifying her. He hummed, his tongue poking at the corner of his mouth again. He turned her head from side to side, inspecting her like one would a fine piece of art... or perhaps a gun was a better analogy in this case.

"Evelette. Eve. _Evieee_." He drawled out the last derivative, obviously favoring it. "Do you know why I _enjoy_ killing Miss Evie?" He hummed, speaking as though he was discussing a favorite past time or his favorite kind of food, before if she could decide if it was rhetorical or not, he continued, squeezing her jaw harder. "Because people are so... _boring._" He paused a moment for dramatic effect. "Predictable they uphold all these moral standards, these codes... they _act_ like they matter, like each soul is _individual_...unique. But when the chips are down and I mean _all_ the chips... the matter is life and death and true colors gleam like... a rapists _blood_." The crud analogy made her quake or perhaps that was just the terror lacing through her. "What do you want? Why me? I haven't done anything to deserve this!" The Joker's voice took on an unmistakeably higher note as he imitated his victims and his fingers squeezed just a bit tighter. She swallowed hard and tried to find the courage to speak.

"You're going to kill me regardless, does the 'why' really matter?" Her voice cracked once, revealing her fear, but the Joker tsked and shook his head, tapping the barrel of the gun almost playfully against the side of her skull, rocking on his heels as he did so. She winced slightly from the unexpected movement, but forced her eyes to linger on his face, she would at least die with a bit of dignity... well as much dignity as a topless girl, could die with.

"Evie, Evie, Evieeee..." He drawled in a low timbre. "I'm not _going_ to kill you. You're...uh... you're different, special. I _like_ that." He growled, fingers tightening now to the point of pain. "I have a bit of a... _reputation_... but you didn't...ah... scream, you asked about my _boots_. Different...unique. You're too much fun to kill and you know what they say about a man and his _toys_..." In a twisted, almost cynical way, she supposed it was a compliment. He wasn't sure why she hadn't run terrified, but adrenaline tended to do weird things to the human psyche, and at the time she had been relieved that she wasn't going to be gang raped. His fingers and the gun disappeared and he rose to his full height, cracking his shoulders as he went. She kept her eyes down, not wanting to see her death, guessing that he was lying. Something thick, heavy, and remarkably warm draped across her back and she jumped slightly. His purple trench coat lay about her shoulders and suddenly he was mere inches from her face. She froze.

"I... don't... like... _rape_." He growled deep in his chest. "Don't do anything... _stupid_." He snarled, his eyes darting between her two rapidly before finally, quick as a striking cobra, he snapped his head forward, painted lips, pressing into her high cheek bone and planting a sloppy kiss there, before he was gone, shoulders hunched and broad as he shuffled down the ally, away and out of sight, just as officers poured in from all sides, lighting up the tiny ally like the fourth of July.


	2. The Bird And The Worm

xSiriuslyPadfoot- Aww thank you! I'm glad you enjoy it so far! That chapter was just the intro so hopefully you stay hooked!

lavenderbreeze30-Thank you! Sadly, I don't have a beta so for now, little grammar errors are probably gonna slip by me, I apologize in advance! I'm glad you're enjoying the story so far and thank you so much for the review! 3

LeopardFan92- xD Well I suppose its awesome I can turn out so many different emotions in you! I hope you continue to enjoy it, I'm really inspired to keep writing this story!

Raven Angel Storm-So sweet! Thank you! Its reviews like this that totally light up my day! I'm glad you're enjoying it so far and I hope you stay enraptured! Thank you so much for the review and enjoy!

* * *

It was freezing cold. The bitter chill of the absolutely frigid room made goose bumps break out across her flesh and random bouts of shivers trace her spine. She was small, didn't have that much body fat and damn it all to hell she was freezing. Quite ironically, she was most bitter about the fact that they had taken the Jokers jacket. She wasn't irked that they had taken it to scan for evidence. She was pissed because they never gave it _back_, and it was made of leather and she was absolutely beside herself in the bitter chill of the interrogation room that they had all but locked her in. She rubbed her arms in a desperate attempt to warm up, her two toned eyes blinking against the bright fierceness of the lights swinging overhead. She groaned softly, squinting before pulling her knees up to her chest in the over-sized stuffed chair. According to the clock on the wall she had been here nearly four hours and it was nearing 3am. She was exhausted, remarkably cold and wanted for nothing but a pillow and a blanket. She would sleep right here if they would only let her. She sighed softly, her head lowering as she blew a stray piece of hair out of her face. She was so utterly... bored.

She jumped when the door slid open and she blinked. The man that walked in looked just as exhausted as she. Tired, dark eyes peered out through a rather large set of glasses. Slightly long dark brown hair was pushed back away from his face. Worry wrinkles had settled over him and fatigue seemed to plague him. Overall he looked like a man whom had seen too much. She felt sorry for him, but he had chosen Gotham to work in... not a great career move. He clutched the purple jacket in his hand and set it gently on the cold metal table. He opened his mouth to speak, and she waited, peering through the strand of her hair that refused to stay behind her ears. He ran a hand tiredly over his face before he began.

"I'm detective Jim Gordan... Miss Evelette. why don't you tell me a little bit about yourself?" His voice was soft, polite, friendly. She liked the elder man instantly, it didn't seem like he was accusing her of anything... but then again he could just have been playing the good cop. Regardless she exhaled slowly, debating what to tell him. Finally, she shrugged and chose to wisely start at the beginning.

"Just Evelette, please. No need to be so formal, makes me feel old." She grinned in an attempt to lighten the air. He offered her a gentle smile for the effort. "There's not terribly much to tell. I grew up in an orphanage, abandoned in a box and dumped on the front steps. The woman that ran the place was fairly eccentric, gave me my name and placed me in various foster homes as I grew. There was nothing particularly scarring about my upbringing. Good families, good people. I wasn't abused or neglected by any means. When I turned sixteen I got permission to start working at that little mom and pop bakery called Panama and I've been working there ever since. My life is pretty boring really...well it was until tonight." A shiver encompassed the length of her spine at the memory, and he offered her a smile of encouragement, making notes as she spoke. He cleared his throat and rubbed at the stubble on his chin.

"Could you tell me what happened tonight Evelette?" His question was gentle and she gnawed her bottom lip, tugging her legs in tighter. She glanced to the side, reluctant to relive the memory of all those fingers grabbing, touching, pulling at her body. A wave of repulsion and nausea flooded her and she forced it down, swallowing hard in an effort to appear strong. "Take your time, there's no rush and if you would prefer, I can get a female detective in here for you." Gordon offered with an understanding smile and she quickly shook her head, she liked Gordon, felt as comfortable as she was going to get with him. She swallowed heavy and shut her eyes, focusing on the memories.

"I had closed up Panama and was on my way home. I don't live in the best part of town so for the most part I try to keep my head down. Kinda...out of sight and out of mind if ya know what I mean, anyway I turned down a street... 48th avenue and three older men noticed me immediately, I knew it wasn't looking good for me and I tried to run but they were faster. They slammed me against a wall, ripped my jacket up, tore off my shirt and my...bra. They had my pants halfway around my ankles and I squeezed my eyes shut, praying it would be over soon..." She paused here, swallowing hard before her eyes opened, she didn't want to see that vile mans face on the back of her eyelids. Three shots, a gun with a silencer maybe, and the next thing I knew, I was scrambling to tug my pants back into place and he was stalking towards me, the gun still smoking from when he had shot my would be attackers." She murmured softly.

"And by him, I presume you mean the Joker?" She cringed slightly, but nodded all the same, this was where everything got hazy, she had been so utterly terrified and besides maybe a bit of bruising to her jaw... he really hadn't done anything to her which was... a miracle in itself. Just because she didn't watch the news didn't mean she was oblivious to the world. The Joker wasn't wanted for his gentle touches or inspiring speeches. She swallowed and forced herself to remember the best she could.

"I slid down the wall, he crouched in front of me. I'm not sure why but I blurted that his shoes didn't match the rest of his ensemble and he laughed. He asked my name and that's when the officer showed up. He killed him so fast... I hardly even saw him reach for his gun. I told him my name, he told me he liked killing people because they were predictable, and then he told me I was... special." She shivered a bit as she remembered that deep gravely tone, but she forced herself to continue. "He didn't hurt me or anything, just told me he wasn't gonna kill me and that he didn't like rape. He draped his jacket over me.." She gestured to the purple leather. "Told me not to do anything stupid and took off." She murmured, only realizing now how utterly unbelievable that all sounded when spelled out in black and white. The silence remained tense and quiet for a moment before Gordon spoke again.

"So the Joker...shot and killed your would-be attackers? The Joker saved you?" The skepticism in his voice could be easily heard and she winced, obviously realizing how preposterous this all sounded. She ran a tired hand through her hair before wrapping it back around her legs. Maintaining what little body heat she had seemed top priority at the moment.

"I guess in an odd round about way, ya. He did save me." She mumbled back and Gordon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose just under the arch of his sunglasses.

"You have to realize how... odd this sounds. The Joker doesn't keep victims in alive, The Joker doesn't leave survivors, anyone I've ever met who has come in contact with him is either in the morgue or the cemetery. The Joker doesn't save people." It was spoken with such a finality that she found herself nodding along with him. "Did you recognize his face, his voice perhaps?" Gordon was eying her wearily, now almost untrusting, and she ran a hand through her hair frustrated as another shiver ran down her skin.

"Can I wear his jacket?" She blurted the words without really thinking, and immediately moved to correct herself. "I'm freezing in here and this shirt you guys gave me, really isn't doing much." Absolute silence followed her random outburst and Gordon's lips thinned into a firm line, eyes flickering from the article of clothing to her, looking for anything suspicious... she was scarcely a hundred pounds, what in Gods name was she gonna do with a coat to a full grown, quite in shape man? It seemed his thoughts had been traveling down the same path and slowly, he leaned forward, pushing the purple trench towards her. She needed no more encouragement, uncoiling her body and quickly slipping on the way too large leather coat. It dwarfed her, but she felt her own body heat trap inside it almost immediately. The sigh of relief was very much real. "Commissioner Gordon, not detective right? You got promoted a few weeks ago I thought." Quite comically he tilted his head to the side, studying her, before slowly nodded.

"I thought you didn't watch the news Evelette?" He questioned her softly, ignoring, for now, the way she had dodged his questions and she sighed, shaking her head with a soft chuckle.

"I don't, but I don't live under a rock either, the bakery I work at, is in the slums of Gotham, news travels fast." She shrugged nonchalantly, before leaning forward lacing her fingers together. Gordon could almost see the Joker make that exact same movement some six months ago before he blew half the precinct to hell. He almost shivered at the memory but stopped himself. as she moved to speak. "Look... I don't want to waste your time and to be perfectly honest, all I want is to get back to my little apartment and sleep until I can't remember what those...rapists... fingers felt like on my skin. I don't know why the Joker did what he did and I probably never will. I didn't recognize him, and even if I did know him, I was so terrified at the time, its a miracle I didn't soil myself, much less focus on anything familiar. I'm not a criminal, I'm a survivor. I grew up a scraper without a last name. I've got two marks on my criminal record, one for vandalizing school property from when I was sixteen and the other is for disturbing the peace because I got caught up in street rally after Scarecrow flooded the city with that weird gas. I do what I have to survive in this city, which, on most days, involves baking various pastries and placing them into little white bags for customers. I sign and give my consent for any and all DNA testing you wanna do, urine or blood samples you need from me, you can search my apartment, just give me the paperwork and Ill sign it... hell you can search it before I even get home. I wish I could be more help to you Commissioner, but all I really am is a street rat, if you'll forgive the reference to a kids movie, I'm a nobody, forgotten just as fast as I'm found. I can't lead you anywhere in this case." She spoke confidently but with a hidden strength that Gordon secretly admired. He had to give her kudos for boldness.

"Well Miss Evelette.. I think we can all agree that such an offer sounds fair, how about I fetch you some paperwork and we will get you out of here? I'll give you my card and if you remember anything else... you can contact me at any time. Take it easy miss, and try not to get in trouble a second time aright?" Gordon was impressed by her willingness, it made her teeter into the more victim aspect rather than the villain, perhaps she had just been an act of chance, The Joker was not know for his predictability. She offered his kind words a gentle smile and he left to make good on them, hopefully he wouldn't see her back here, he didn't need any more bodies in his morgue attributed to the Joker.

Diligently and quite pleasant, she signed every consent form that he placed in font of her. While he didn't greatly suspect her of any massive criminal activity, he was sure this eased the mind of his staff as well. He could tell she didn't want a spotlight directed on her she just wanted to slip back into obscurity and he was more than happy to let her do so... he just hoped the damn press hadn't caught word of this. As she finished the last of the forms, Gordon reached to grab the rather significant stack and she followed suit. A woman took her fingerprints, drew a bit of blood from the crook of her elbow and all the while she remained quiet, patient, but quiet.

When finally Gordon had her in the cop car, the drive was relatively peaceful, he could tell she was fighting utter exhaustion and he felt mildly guilty as she struggled to keep herself awake until they reached her apartment, when he turned and pulled into the parking lot, he winced. The building was a colossal dump, but she smiled as though she had just been dropped off at Bruce Wayne's manor. She stepped out of the car, turning to lean in through the open window.

"Thanks for uh... believing me. I half expected to be tried for holding a criminal." Her words were sincere, but Gordon quickly shook his head.

"Your terror was real, I've been doing this job far too long, things like honesty become second nature to spot. You might be a bit more blunt than most, but you were honest." He chuckled softly and it seemed it worked as a gentle smile pulled at the corners of her lips before she patted the car and stood to her full height, spine cracking back into place.

"Thanks I think... g'night Commissioner." She murmured too him before turning on her heel and heading towards her apartment. Gordon watched her go, heading towards the decrepit building with purpose, and only as she reached the front door to slip inside, did he notice that she was still wearing that thick leather purple jacket.

* * *

Two weeks later, Evelette huffed, shifting the bag of groceries to her left hand as she slid the key into the lock and pushed open the door with her shoulder. The smock that she had forgotten to take off at work was filled with various small items that she would have to find a place in her tiny kitchen for. Letting out a breath, she kicked the door shut, sashayed around the coffee table and into the small kitchen, setting the heavy bag on the counter. Her apartment was tiny and run down. The air conditioning unit worked but not the heat, the living room consisted of a ratty couch, an old tube TV, and a beat up coffee table. Her kitchen was apart of the living room, separated by an awkwardly angled chunk of wall. The stove was ancient, the fridge, even older and the oven worked fifty percent of the time. Her bedroom was simple, a queen sized bed with halfway decent sheets but nothing fancy, a dresser and a side table. The bathroom that accompanied it had spiderweb cracks that shot through it, a toilet and a shower tub. It was falling apart, run-down, and utterly ragged, but she loved it, because it was all hers. For an orphan this was a goldmine, it couldn't be taken away from her, she owned every piece of furniture in this damned apartment.

As she put the last of the groceries away she sighed, leaving the kitchen and slumping onto the couch, she didn't need to eat today. She flipped on the TV and let the animated sounds of the road runner and Wile. E Coyote filter through her apartment, with a soft smile she grinned. Call her childish, but she still loved a good, old time cartoon. Sprawled haphazardly across her couch, she drifted off to sleep, the sound of acme explosions lulling her off.

Morning's light filtered in through the apartment and with a soft groan she roused herself from the clutches of sleep, she winced as she turned her neck to get the kinks out of her spine... damn, she hadn't meant to fall asleep on the couch. She blinked lazily up at the sun filtering in through the single window of her apartment. She groaned and stretched her arms high above the head, jumping slightly when a rather loud bang sounded from her TV. She fumbled for the remote, shutting it off and rubbing the sleep from her eyes when a soft weight fell in her lap. She blinked once, while her eyes adjusted before they fell on the rose laid haphazardly across her lap. The thorns had been clipped from its stem and a note, tied with a elegant piece of stain purple ribbon dug into her lap, she lifted the flower, turning the note so she could read it.

_Aren't you a touch ollld to be watching cartoons doll face? I came to get my...uh... jacket and I simply could not resist leaving you a pretty flower. Although it seemed rather dull in comparison to you so I had to...uh... spruce it up a bit... maybe I'll even help out your apartment a bit... its awfully droll in here. I'll be seeing you Miss Evie... real soon. -XOXO Joker_

It was signed with a flourish and she trembled. Instinctively she jumped up, eyes scanning her apartment, completely forgetting the flower or the threat, darting to her kitchen, than her bedroom, everything was in its rightful place, not a single object appeared to have been messed with or harassed. She was about to reach for her phone, when something wet and cold dripped onto her hand and she froze. Glancing down to really look at the rose, one side was a beautiful, vibrant purple, while the other half was darker, appearing to have been dunked or covered in something. Another drip and she glanced down at her hand. It was ruby colored. It was blood.

Panic welled up inside of her chest, panic and fear, trembling, she scrambled for her phone, punching in Gordon's numbers as fast as she was able and hitting that little green button, dropping the rose, she paced back and forth, each ring filling her with more and more anxiety. On the sixth and a half ring, the phone was answered, a groggy, half asleep voice rumbling through the connection.

"E'llo?" The voice had clearly just been disturbed from a deep sleep, but she didn't have the mind or the stability at the moment to care. His voice did nothing to calm her and had she been sitting she was certain her knee would have been bounding out of control.

"Gordon its Evelette... he was here." It took all of ten minutes for Gordon to get to her apartment, a slew of cop cars and detectives right behind him. She left her door open as various officers dusted for fingerprints and God only knew what else, Gordon was walking with her as she paced, bottom lip caught between her two front teeth as she watched them place the rose and the letter into a sterile plastic bag, finally she rounded on Gordon, seemingly having enough of this tense awkward silence.

"How did he get in here, I didn't even hear him, there were no signs that he forced his way in here, my TV was still going, he didn't move, touch, or steal anything, I was asleep on my couch and-" It was clear she was having a rough time, and Gordon gently placed a hand on her shoulder reassuringly. Several of the detectives, were in the process of packing up and leaving, obviously having collected all the evidence they had needed. She had already called in and informed her boss that she wouldn't be in today and Gordon had already informed her that she would need to come down and give her official statement. She was dreading the day and already she wanted to crawl into her bedroom, that tiny hidey hole, lock the door and never leave. Why in Gods name did he find her so interesting? Was he going to kill her? Use her as an example? Why hadn't he hurt her? A thousand thoughts raced through her mind and eventually she stopped trying to sort it out. She was getting a migraine.

"I know this must be hard on you Evelette... we can relocate you if you would like, put you into witness protection? I'm already planning on having a car detail to follow you." Gordon ushered her out of the building along with the last few detectives and gently shut, and locked her front door as they headed down the stairs. She shook her head adamantly.

"The detail is fine but... the apartment kind of means a lot to me. Its the first thing that's well... mine." She explained quietly as she slid into the passenger seat of his police cruiser. He sighed, nodding his understanding, throwing the thing in drive before he spoke again.

"The Joker is not insane... deranged, psychotic, possibly, but hes not insane." The rather off topic line made her slightly confused and she tilted her head to the side curiously, luckily for her Gordon continued. "Do you know what makes a serial killer Evelette? It's not their pension for murder, or the fact that they don't leave evidence, its not there malicious streak to kill, and its not even the sadistic pleasure they get out of taking a life. It's the simple fact that they are so good at deception, at making you see what they want you too, that most people never look at them twice. Their ability to blend, to hide in plain sight... that's what makes them next to impossible to catch. The Joker wants us to see a madman, a deranged psychopath never planning, just doing things, but I think... hes just very, very smart." Gordon confessed and Evelette fell quiet, churning over everything he had said and silently, but rather begrudgingly agreeing with him.

"If that's all true... than what does he see in me? I have no money, no college education and my job is nothing to brag about... what does he want with me?" Evelette stressed, her eyes darting to the passing scenery and Gordon sighed, raking his fingers through his hair.

"I don't know... and that has me scared." His honesty surprised her, she hadn't been expecting it and silently, she felt her respect for him increase a bit, she had always thought the cops of Gotham to be corrupt scoundrels who picked at the carcasses of Gotham's underbelly, but perhaps her assumptions had been wrong. Despite the utter finality of his words, she managed a weak smile and sighed.

"Well... here's to hoping its not what I would look like with a matching Glasgow." She managed a forced, weak laugh and Gordon shot her a look of sympathy before raising an invisible glass.

"Here...here."

An hour later she found herself with a cheap coffee and a bagel, waiting for Gordon to sign her releases, allowing her to go back home. She had already been told finding substantial evidence on the rose would likely be slim to none and she sighed, picking apart the bread pastry more than eating it. She was screwed, she knew it, Gordon knew it, and probably the vast majority of the police station knew it. They couldn't watch her twenty-four seven, Gotham had way bigger problems than her. It was only a matter of time before he got tired of this little charade and actually killed her, or so she presumed. She sighed, a puff of air that she exhaled through her nose. The door opened and Gordon stepped out, hands on his hips as he strode towards her. He approached her, opening his mouth to speak when a man in a lab coat ran towards them.

"Sir we have a match to the blood on that rose... but uh... I don't think you're gonna like it. Can I talk to you for a moment?" Gordon sighed glancing between Evelette and the officer before speaking softly.

"I think shes got a right to know Jonesy. Just say it." Gordon mumbled half heatedly, the gentleman hesitated before nodding quickly.

"Well um.. its yours Miss Evelette." Both of them tensed and the officer quickly scrambled on. " As a precaution I went down to the lab to make sure we still had your sample and we don't. He knew we took a blood sample and he stole it." Gordon cursed and the kid winced. Gordan turned away, pacing agitatedly with this new piece of information. Evelette felt the color drain from her cheeks but before she could voice an opinion, Gordon had rounded on the officer.

"You wanna tell me how the God damned Joker managed to sneak into my precinct, break into the lab, and steal physical evidence while this place was crawling with cops? " Gordon snapped, obviously pissed, and the officer shifted uneasily, squirming under the scrutinizing glare.

"Well sir... we uh... that is the... Joker he's a master of disguise right?" The kid was floundering and Gordon growled while the poor kid turned and ran. He paced for a few minutes growing more and more agitated and feeling more and more helpless, before finally he rounded on her, for a long moment he just starred at her, dark eyes bouncing between her two different colored eyes before he let out an expulsion of breath.

"You can't stay in that apartment tonight. I'll go with you, you can grab a bag full of things and then Ill find somewhere safe for you to stay for the night." Evelette opened her mouth to protest but Gordon shook his head. "Please, Miss Evelette, if not for your peace of mind than for mine. I really don't want to have to ID your body." She quickly shut her mouth, wondering why she was suddenly so important to him. What in the hell was happening to her life? She nodded her head complacently and slowly rose to follow him out to his police cruiser.

The drive back to her apartment was silent, she could feel how tense her new found protector was, it was obvious he didn't enjoy feeling this helpless and out of control. The Joker seemed to do whatever he damn well pleased and the problem was, he was damn good at what he did, even as terrified as she was, she could only ponder in silent amazement how he had managed to procure her own blood... had he been watching her this last two weeks? She couldn't decide if she should feel moderately flattered or if she should peer over her shoulder at the car following along behind them. A mixture of fear and disbelief broiled in her belly as she contemplated just why the most wanted man in the city had taken such a keen shine to her... well maybe keen wasn't the right word, perhaps just shine would do nicely. Surely whatever he wanted with her, couldn't be good, she prayed to whatever deity would listen that he would leave her alone. He could terrorize a nice, rich, pretty girl with tits like mountains and an ass to die for. He wouldn't even get publicity for killing her! Well that was a lie... anything the Joker did got publicity. Gordon pulled into the parking lot and right in front of the building, slowly he turned off the ignition before turning to face her, sucking in a large breath, before turning to look at her.

"I'll wait down here a half an hour for you to get what you need. If your not back by then, I'm coming up... I can't make you leave and I understand why you want to stay, but at least for a few nights... it would be much safer. " He mumbled softly and who was she to disagree with that knowledge?

"Ill be back, don't worry... thirty minutes." She smiled halfheartedly before unbuckling her seat belt and getting out of the car. The walk up to her apartment was labored and slow, her heart still hammered in her ribs like a hummingbird, but she felt utterly exhausted. A good, long, day or two of rest would do her wonders, maybe this rather unexpected getaway would actually do her some good. She slid her key into the lock and with a grunt forced the old door open with her shoulder and froze.

Vaguely, somewhere, deep, deep in the recesses of her mind she acknowledged the fact that the door had swung shut behind her, but the forefront of her brain was in shock as her eyes took in the scene before her. Purple carpet, green walls, purple ceiling. An elegantly carved granite coffee table, a purple sofa, a massive plasma TV mounted on the wall, the kitchen, brand new cabinets, stove, oven, all of course colored green and purple. Sloppy red hearts were painted across the walls, the colors running, looking like blood, inside the hearts were the words "E + J forever" "E + J always" :Eeeeevie loves the Joker!" And intermingling between all of these macabre love hearts, were the words "Ha, ha, ha," painted over and over again. Like a spooked deer she darted into the bedroom, an intricately carved mirror, a dresser seemingly made of ivory, the walls, carpet and floor, all matching the living room. The bed an elegant purple was a canopy of heavenly appearing sheets and a comforter, the bed cost more than she was quite certain she could ever afford. Everything in this apartment would have been worth the apartment if not more.

"Ya know doll face... it uh... it seems that _Commissioner_ Gordon has taken quite the shine to you." The deep, masculine voice sounded behind her and she whipped around, fear plunging deep into her heart, he was mere inches from her face, leaning down slightly to be more at level with her, but still looming over her menacingly. Instinctively, she backed up and he followed. "_Apparently_ he hasn't learned not to play with the other kids toys... and I... well I don't _share_ well." The joker sneered, growling in the back of his throat almost possessively and Evelette gulped, she was screwed, The Joker had an entire half an hour to play.


	3. My Mistakes Were Made For You

krikanalo- Thank you so much! I'm glad you are intrigued! I hope you keep enjoying it ;)

lovesalot123- Aww your review totally made my day, when I saw it! I appreciate the compliments so much and I'm glad you are enjoying it so far! I wanted to make a Joker that was inspired by Heath Ledgers portrayal but I wanted him to still be very eerie and creepy... and possessive of course is a given! Thank you so much for the lovely review and enjoy!

Raven Angel Storm- You are way too sweet! Thank you so much for the lovely review! I'm glad you are enjoying it so far! Hopefully you will be just as in love with this chapter! There's a special surprise at the end!

xSiriuslyPadfoot- Thank you so much! I can't stand an OC that's beautiful, flawless, and completely beside herself, I didn't want my OC to be a walking mary sue and I'm glad you agree! I hope you enjoy this chapter!

dEnIsE tHe StRaNgE- The question is... what wont the Joker do to his toy? Thank you for the review and enjoy!

ApolloNico24601- Thank you so much! I wanted a very over the top, yet still creepy Joker, obviously, hes inspired by heath Ledger's portrayal but I didn't want it to be an exact replica. Thank you again for the lovely review and enjoy!

PromiseMeCourage- Thank you so much for the encouraging review! I hope you continue to enjoy it! ^^

Nevermorea- Aww thanks! I hope you continue to stay hooked! Enjoy this new chapter ^^

Plague's Vengeance- Thank you very much for the review and here is the next installment! Please enjoy!

* * *

Silence. She had always hated the utter stillness of the air. She hated it because she could hear the other kids in that orphanage crying, she could hear their pleas, their cries, echoing in the back of her head. She always felt guilty because she knew that most would never leave the dingy orphanage, at least not for long. It reminded her of the stinging taunts that her parents never loved her, that she was an outcast, that she deserved every punch thrown her way, every suspension she got when she fought back and every touch of those damn rapists hands as they clawed at her body. She hated it now, that dull ringing in the back of her mind, her brain trying desperately to provide some clout even if there was no actual noise. Her knees hit the edge of the luxurious bed and she fell, arms propelling to keep her at least sitting as the Joker finally stopped. For a long moment the silence reigned strong. The Joker had stopped a few feet away, giving her a moments breathing room, but little more. Silence reigned king, her heart drummed in her chest, desperately trying to break free and race away, she was petrified, but she had damn good reason to be. She could take a few punches, and sure as hell she could toss a few... but the Joker... no one even knew his real name. He blew up hospitals, banks, stole from the mob, seemingly for no apparent reason. He was a league all of his own and there was absolutely no way in the seven layers of hell that she so much as stood a chance against him... didn't mean she wouldn't try but she was a realist, she saw things for what they were and he could kill her, faster than she could probably blink.

The Joker cocked his head to the side, studying her, watching her, curiosity gleamed in the depths of those dark eyes and instinctively she looked down. He was a figure of authority, at least here, and she had a bad habit of trying to avoid it. One of the reasons she pined for her small, insignificant existence, she was perfectly content never being on anyone's radar. Surviving and getting by without ever stirring the pot, completely neutral... funny how things turn out. Her eyes fell on his shoes, freshly spray-painted green with added, new purple laces. She blinked, her mouth stupidly blurting her thoughts.

"You dyed your shoes." The thought came simple, quite, and almost contemplative and as soon as they left her lips she winced against the brashness of it all. She sucked at socializing damn it! Why did she have to be put to the ultimate test of stability? She had about as much social decorum as an unreasonably honest six year old talking to a fat man. The Joker, for his part, seemed to take it in stride. The corners of his lips pulled up in a menacing grin that revealed rows of teeth, gleaming in the newly refurbished light of her apartment.

"Yes... I did... you found a _flaw_. I fixed it." He punctuated the "t" with the click of his tongue against the roof of his mouth, arms dangling lazily at his sides. His fingers twitched as though they itched to do something. She prayed it wasn't to reach for one of his weapons. Her heart plummeted as silence reigned, she shifted, only once, but it was enough to make The Joker smile. He missed nothing, she should guessed that. "Has the nice Commissioner offered to... _hide_ you from me.?" The question was almost a lovers caress, spoken so softly, so quietly, every muscle of hers went wire tense and she hesitated in her response, letting out a shaky breath she swallowed the lump in her throat and forced her vocals to cooperate.

"Yes... he's downstairs, he's supposed to be taking me somewhere safe. I don't know where." She tacked on that last bit at the last second, she liked Gordon but not enough to save his neck by risking her own. She was no hero, never would be, she didn't fight for anyone's cause and she certainly wasn't going to grow a heroic streak with the most wanted man in all of Gotham standing not four feet away from her. The Joker's eyes careened to the right, a phone withdrawn from his pocket in a flash. A series of beeps and flashes and a muffled voice that she couldn't understand rumbled out through the speaker. The Joker's smile expanded, the scars nearly touching his ears.

"I want you to learn a magic trick... make the Commissioner... _disappear_!" Even on the phone, he made wild hand gestures, signifying what he wanted with an animated movement that she had never seen before. He slid the phone back into his jacket after the voice rumbled what she assumed was a fast agreement but before she could ask anything more, he read her mind. "Don't...uh... don't fret doll face. I'm not gonna kill him! Just bust a few bones, drag his body away and dump the _car._ So long as he doesn't freeze to death he will live to dine on another _donut._" The Joker grinned wider if such a thing were even possible and despite herself Evelette felt her lips curl upwards in a soft smile, a gentle giggle spilling from her at his play with the stereotype. Her reaction made him grin and he suddenly drew closer, sitting at her side in record time. His tongue escaped from behind his teeth to lick the edges of his scars, she noticed only now that he had a small almost unnoticeable one on his lower lip. Her own lips were caught between her pearly whites, a habit when she was nervous or unsure. The joker grinned, a gloved hand, twisting in the locks of her hair, to forcefully pull her towards him. He rested his forehead against hers, she could feel the greasepaint oozing onto her own skin.

"Why haven't you killed me yet?" She didn't ask about the sudden change in decorum, she didn't ask about why he had chosen her or what she had done wrong. She had done plenty wrong, and she had done a fair amount of good. She wasn't perfect and honestly it didn't matter why he had chosen her. He had and nothing was going to change that. So she asked a better question, a real question. Why he hadn't simply offed her. Truth be told, it made no sense. She was a nameless nobody amongst a sea of piranhas, the city of Gotham wouldn't blink twice if her corpse was found in the streets. She had no family and no friends good enough to shed more than a tear. She wasn't important and she was no celebrity. There was nothing for him to gain by keeping her alive... then again, there wasn't much to gain in her death either.

"Because you my _Evie_... are the Queen of Spades." He purred, a rumbling sound that strummed through his trachea. She blinked, at a loss for this sudden turn of logic. Her mind raced trying to comprehend such an outlandish statement and the Joker shifted, dragging a leg up to face her, his other hand was suddenly inches from her face, a switchblade clasped firmly in his fingers. Fear began to creep up on her once more. " The Queen of Spades in a game of hearts..." He drawled with exuberance, his free hand making drastic movements like he was explaining something to a small child. "The card every player loves to hate... and hates to love. The singular card that can make or break the game... the _Queen._ Shes different, unique... interesting. Just. Like. You." He growled and the blade lay flat against her cheek.

She swallowed hard and heavy, her two toned gaze shifting back and forth between his own, bouncing animatedly, unsure of which to focus on or if she should focus on him at all. It all seemed so surreal, she was used to the faded white of her apartment, not with the exuberance of purple and green that now flooded this place. She debated on how to reply... was she supposed to? She wasn't even sure how to take it, was it a compliment or an insult? If it was the latter shouldn't she be trying to punch him? If it was the first didn't that sort of compliment usually come with a flower and a a date? … Ah... but the flower had already come and he was here now.

"A queen? Perhaps of the cockroaches that live under my sink and the mice that occasionally steal my bags of chips, but sadly neither one of those come with a big fancy crown." She quipped softly, her voice having finally been found. His lips cracked into a large smile, a genuine chuckle falling from his lips, the switchblade drew a touch tighter, the gentle sting letting her know that the blade had sliced through her first layer of epidermis. She didn't flinch, she was already weak enough in the madman's eyes.

"Ha! She tells _jokes_ too!" His tongue moved to lick at the corners of his mouth, the beginnings of those wretched scars. "Maybe we should... uh... switch names. You can be Joker and I can be Miss Evelette." He punctuated each syllable of her name. "I suppose... I did lie to you on our first date... maybe I _am_ a queen!" His voice grew nasally and high, imitating a gay man that one might find on a drama TV series, exuberantly over the top and unrealistic, and the rather childish and asinine prank made him seem so...human. Less scary, more like an actual person and not a grease paint covered monster.

Evelette wasn't sure if it was the stress, the lack of sleep, the absolute spikes of adrenaline and fear that had been coursing in and out of her system like bubbling pop rocks, simply the fact that The Joker was in fact funny or perhaps an odd combination of all of the above, but she cracked. Two colored eyes flooded with amusement and humor, her shoulders shook quietly and slowly but surely a grin broke across her mouth from ear to ear, revealing pearly whites behind her lips. Finally she could bare no more and soft, whimsical laughter flooded through her mouth and danced about her newly redone decorum. She brought a hand to her mouth to stifle the noise, but just as quickly as a striking cobra the Joker kept it down on her lap fingers binding around her wrist like a vice. He didn't join her, just watched her with the intensity she had never before seen. He didn't speak, he didn't move until she was completely done with her fit of laughter and finally when she fell silent, he drew in a deep breath, fingers wrapping around her chin, the switchblade tucked into

his palm as a bead of blood dripped down her cheek.

_"Different."_ He drew out each syllable and she wisely stayed silent as he turned her head from side to side. For a long moment silence reigned and she watched his eyes, but he wasn't looking at her, he was examining her. Cheeks, mouth, nose, chin, hair, ears, forehead... almost as though he was memorizing her. Courage that came from a place she didn't know she possessed begged her to speak.

"Are you appraising me? Taking me to auction? Hoping to upgrade for a better model?" Her voice was almost teasing, a light, airy quality that twined through the air in a delightful octave. He stopped moving her head, his gaze bouncing between her two toned eyes before his fingers clenched tighter on her jaw, almost to the point of pain. Her confidence quickly abandoned her, and she was fast to remember just who was perched beside her. Stupid, insipid, foolish, words to perfectly describe her behavior, she could remember those words being thrown at her a few times during the adoption fairs. Her trip down old memory lane was cut short as The Joker's lips parted to speak.

"Appraising? Ha. He. Ho. Ha. Ha." So dark, so deadly, so utterly terrifying, she could actually feel her heart shrink and her lungs shrivel to nothing as she forgot how to breathe. How could she go from laughter to utter terror so quickly? How could he be so god damned terrifying? "If I were...uh... _appraising_ you. That would mean that I intended to sell you." The Joker drawled as though she was a young child who needed to understand. "_ Unfortunately_ for you... You. Are. Mine." The utter possessiveness in his voice left no room for question and sent shivers careening down her spine. She trembled, those words, they branded her, marked her more than any scar ever could, it was chilling and she was certain that voice would haunt her nightmares forever. If she was his... he would never stop looking for her, she knew that... besides, where would she run? She had no money, no family, she was alone, with one of the most dangerous men to ever live. Suddenly he moved, pulling back only slightly from her, his tongue escaping to wet his lips once more.

" Touch. Them." He punctuated each word with finality and she jumped slightly, eyes quickly darting between the two stones of onyx he called... no... not onyx. Just a very very rich brown. Brown eyes. It was clear the words were meant as a command, and she was loathe not to obey... hesitantly, she extended her right hand, reaching for the left side of his face It seemed to be the most jagged and puckered, the smaller of the two, but the more grotesque. She could only imagine how bad that must have hurt. Gently, barely more than the brush of a butterflies wing she traced the cruel line, the nerves in her fingers feeling the damaged flesh, every lump, every twist, every bend, tracing the path some cruel blade had carved. When she reached the end of the horrid scar, she caught her bottom lip between her two front teeth and let her arm drop. She shifted, so she could better see the scar on his right before repeating the process, this was the smoother and longer of the two, curved more into a Glasgow than the other, when she reached the edge, she let her fingers trace the smooth, unblemished skin beneath the greasepaint, a streak of red grease paint was left tainting the white, her stained fingers fell away.

She gnawed her bottom lip, eyes jumping to his own before falling to his lips and the tiny scar on his lower lip. Her right index finger pulled the soft tissue as it traced the small indent. She swallowed and moved just a touch closer. She licked her own lips, copying him. "Do they still hurt?" Her voice was so quiet, so soft, that she wondered if she had even spoken at all or if the thought just swirled inside her head.

"Only when I have to dig out the damned _grease_ paint." Came the fast and gruff reply, shattering whatever spell had held her entirely captive only a moment before. She smiled at his answer regardless a soft chuckle drawing from her as she cocked her head only slightly to the side. This was crazy this was insane, he was one of the most intelligent criminals Gotham had ever seen and he was joking and laughing with her in a bedroom covered in fresh green and purple paint. There was something wrong with this scenario, hell there was something wrong with her.

"My apartment... the cops are crawling all over this place, how am I supposed to hide..." Her eyes darted all around the room, her shoulders shrugging before she finished. "...all of this?" Her apartment had become the Jokers personal playpen, everything in here screamed his doing, subtly was not his forte. Her apartment was a eighties nightmare, a kaleidoscope of neon colors. The Joker released her completely and rose off the edge of the bed, turning his back on her and heading out of the bedroom, grumbling to himself as he went. She hesitated a beat, perhaps two, before slowly following after him. He was gone, vanished from her apartment and she couldn't decide if it was relief, confusion or disappointment she felt. She glanced around the colorful ensemble but her eyes continuously drifted back to those writings on the wall. _Joker and Evie forever ._ What did he mean by that? Would he pop in and out of her life whenever he felt like it? She took a tentative step forward, and almost jumped out of her skin when two strong arms, coiled around her waist, tugging her backwards against a warm chest. The top of her head just barely passed his chin and he had to bend down to rest his chin against her shoulder, she froze, the warmth of his breath against the nape of her neck chilling her to the bone.

"You _won't_ hide anything. I want them to know, I want them to squirm." He growled into her ear, nose brushing her throat, she trembled at the dark undertones, quivering without a sound and willing her body to stop.

"Squirm?" She questioned quietly, the words before her, now almost taunting her as the weight of them settled in her gut. The Joker's chilling laugh only added to the clarity of the message scribbled haphazardly across her walls. It was all beginning to make sense, it didn't matter why, it didn't matter how. He had picked her. For what point or purpose she didn't know, but he had picked her. The apartment, the rose, the scratchings on the wall... they weren't for her, they were a message to the police, to batman and to whatever other vigilante plagued the feces soaked streets of this God forsaken city. They couldn't catch him, they couldn't touch him. He could taunt and flaunt his will right beneath their noses and there wasn't a damned thing they could do to stop him and he knew it.

"Smart _girl._" There is nowhere they can put you that I won't find you. I don't play... _nice."_ He growled, arms flexing, tightening instinctively around her. A piercing, shrill sound, sliced through the air and she jumped, heart shooting through the roof before she relaxed as she realized it was just his phone. He released her almost immediately and pulled out the small flip phone, snapping an irritated 'what' at the person on the other line, Evelette left him to his call, the less she knew, the easier it was to keep talking to the police. She trotted back into the bedroom and paused as she caught her reflection in the glass. White greasepaint smeared across her forehead, neck and shoulder, a touch of red on the curve of her ear. It was comical looking and had this been any other situation she might have laughed at her reflection, as it were, she merely lifted a hand, to smear the bit of white across her forehead.

She wondered what she would be doing had she not waltzed down that one street, had she never almost gotten raped. Would she have returned to her dull and rather uninteresting routine? Serving small little pastries until something more promising came along? Ya... she already knew the answer to that, she already had, it wasn't until she got that rose that her life was shifted once again. The Joker slid beside her, gazing at her reflection just as she was.

"Look at that... my face is all over _you._" He growled and she smiled, albeit small but it was still there. "Apparently my pretty little lackeys can't figure out that two plus two equals _four_. That leaves me to teach them." He drawled in a tone that made her highly doubt that he would be teaching them anything about mathematics. "That means doll... that our cute little date has to be cut short." One hand coiled around the front of her neck loosely while the other brushed imaginary tears from her cheeks. "Sh sh sh sh dollface... don't cry. I will come back." He growled and suddenly his grip tightened and she was this shy of loosing all oxygen flow to her lungs. Menacingly he loomed over her. "Don't do anything _stupid._ Don't forget where your loyalties lie, because trust me, my dear,_ I. Won't._" He snarled, nose pressing into her own as he made his message quite clear. He released her, striding back towards her living room, she heard the door slam and she let out an exaggerated sigh of relief that she hadn't realized she had been holding.

The adrenaline and the fear that she had taken for granted dropped like lead weights from her veins and on shaky legs she slowly walked back into her living room, needing to see for herself that he was really gone, really out of her apartment. It was empty, just as before and she half expected him to come snagging her round the waist again. She glanced around her misbegotten apartment with her hands on her hips, debating what she should do. She could call the police... but to what point and purpose? They would show up, dust her entire house, take in what they wanted for evidence, find nothing that wasn't generic and untraceable, she would go in for another line of questioning, she would come home and the whole ring and pony show would start all over, and to be honest she was getting real sick of it. She collapsed on her couch, leaning forward, elbows resting on her knees and face buried in her hands. Her fingers traced the smooth contours of her own face that had, only ten minutes before been tracing the viscous wounds on the Jokers own cheeks. She folded her hands beneath her chin. She could run, hop the next bus out of Gotham and get a job somewhere else waiting tables... hooking... anything was better than potentially being killed at any given moment right?

Her door was thrown open with a bang and her poor heart skipped a few more beats as she jumped, one blue and one gold eye spun wildly in their sockets to pinpoint her attacker, vaguely, she realized The Joker had retrieved his own coat, for it now billowed angrily about his legs as he stalked towards her mumbling something beneath his breath. He reached her swiftly grasping her chin, drawing one leg up to kneel on the couch. Only when he drew uncomfortably close to her again could she catch a few of his scattered murmurs. "...lackeys distractin' me from what I came up her to _do._ Almost made me forget." He growled against her, forcing her back against the plush cushions of the sofa. He loomed over her, menacing and feral.

"What's that?" She murmured just as softly, curious as to what else he possibly wanted her fo- and for the first time in a very long time every last thought, inkling and idea dropped from her brain with concrete shoes. Utter shock rendered her paralyzed as the Joker swooped down and captured her smooth bottom lip between his rough and scarred ones. He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, teeth nipping gently at the overly-sensitive flesh and suddenly she remembered how to move. With a snarl all of her own, she leaned forward and returned his action. She tilted her head to the left deepening the kiss, nipping at his upper lip. She didn't know how long the lip lock lasted, seconds, minutes, hours.. time stopped mattering to her. There was no tongue and other than his gloved thumb tracing her cheekbone he didn't try to touch her. When he released her, panting quietly against her lip, she realized one of her hands had gotten lost in his mess of green locks and they were surprisingly soft. The Joker's grin expanded and he rose off of her, licking his lips, tasting her there.

"Goodbye _doll_." He growled and with that the Joker spun around, vacating her apartment, the door clicking shut behind him. Her chest heaved, rising and falling as she tried to regain her breath. Instinctively her tongue escaped her mouth to lick her bottom lip, the taste of greasepaint and something she couldn't quite name flooding her senses as she starred at her unmoving front door. Well... hell... maybe staying right here wouldn't be such a bad choice.


	4. Smashed to Smithereens

Nevermorea- Aww you are too sweet! My writing isn't that good! x] I'm sorry for the massively long wait... stupid work, but anywho... enjoy this chapter and thannk you so much for the lovely review!

krikanalo- Thank you so much! My Joker is inspired by Heath Ledger's representation, but I didn't want to make him a carbon copy so I'm glad you enjoyed him! Here is the next chapter and enjoy!

Raven Angel Storm- Aww! Well regardless I send you super virtual hugs! ( I love my reviewers you guys are so amazing!) If I could I would bake you all massive batches of cookies! I'm so glad you still enjoy the chapters ( even if it sometimes take me twenty years to update x]) Here is the very late belated next chapter, thank you forever for the lovely reviews and enjoy!

xSiriuslyPadfoot- Thank you! I'm glad you liked the last chapter! (Who dosen't love a jealous possessive Joker? x]) Please enjoy this next chapter and thank you again for the review!

lovesalot123- This entire chapter is completely dedicated to you, you have no idea how happy your review made me! Completely made my day... my week and quite possibly my month! I have never made anyone so excited with my writing before! Thank you so so so so so so much! (Tempting to dedicate the story to you at this point x]) I LOVED Heath Ledger's portrayal of the Joker, but I didn't want to make a carbon copy so I changed a few quirks about him and I'm super glad that you love them! (Feel free to stalk me at everytime. ;) ) Although I am totally in love with this Joker and am jealous of Evie B| ... ANYWHO your review made me so unbelieveably happy that if your next one inluded rainbows and unicorns, I think I may just explode! Thank you so so so so much again! (And yes that is my dog, his name is Cinder ^^)

dEnIsE tHe StRaNgE- I am so glad you put that in your review! I debated forever if I should describe the texture of his scars, but I noticed that so few people do, I just couldn't resist! It took a lot of looking at numerous pictures to attempt to capture it and I was kinda nervous about that section so I'm really glad you liked it! Thank you for the lovely review and enjoy!

Guest- Thank you so much! I hope you continue to enjoy it!

ApolloNico24601- I'm glad you enjoy the dark vs the light. This story will be a constant battle of morbidity and romance, certainly not a traditional love story, so its awesome that its captured your attention! Thank you for the absolutely awesome review!

momoXvolturi- Thank you so much! Sadly, updates are going to be short in coming, I have so much work ;_; Thank you for the amazing review and enjoy!

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Her fingers were shaking, itchy, nervous. The pack of cigarettes lay taunting her on her oddly shaped neon green coffee table... she supposed it wasn't really hers, perhaps she just had it on loan. She snorted at such a preposterous notion who the hell would want it back? Dexterous digits spasmed complacently against her thigh and with an exaggerated grunt, she lifted herself free of the sofa and snatched the unopened pack with a scowl. She had kicked the damn habit too, but considering the circumstances... trotting out onto her cracking balcony she lit one with ease and took a long and calming drag. The stick of possible cancer twitched and the ashes fell lamely to the street below as she paced. Her eyes glanced at the patrol cars... three of them ever since Gordon's accident. The man was still in the hospital pleading her innocence in the matter, the DA however had taken a new light... course it hadn't helped her any when they saw her new apartment. They stalked her everywhere... she was getting paranoid. Not good. She still had Gordon on her side, but if she was being perfectly honest with herself, she wasn't quite sure how far this innocent thing went, its not like she had resisted that lip lock too terribly much... it did take two to tango. She huffed, another long drag. Three weeks, there weeks since hurricane Joker has massacred her routine life and her apartment... and where was the rat bastard now? Fuck if she knew. Why did they think she was so special, for all she knew the Joker toyed with all of his victims this way, she didn't know anything more about him than your typical average Joe... cept that greasepaint tastes rather gross and that his own unique flavor made her toes curl. Bad. Very bad thoughts. Best we forget those. The words chimed through her head in her own personal mantra before she flicked the butt end of the cigarette down to the street below. In a frustrated fit of boldness, she gripped the rotting railing and leaned down, intent on shouting something childish down to the officers below but with a frustrated grunt, she abandoned such a petty notion. She wasn't five anymore.

With a huff she turned around, only to come nose to plate armor with something dark and quite possibly foreboding. She screamed and jumped backwards, arms pinwheeling, as the railing decided to give up the ghost, faster than she could comprehend, an arm of steel wound around her waist and hauled her backwards against a hard chest while the other clamped off her shout of surprised terror. He slammed the sliding door shut and released her, she stumbled, terrified eyes landing on him uncertainly. She eyed the infamous Batman without shame, taking note of the very colorful array of weapons he seemed to posses... along with the bazillion plates of armor. Well... fuck... she needed another cigarette. "Oh no... I already have one stalker that plays dress-up, I don't need two... you wanna talk to me you go knock on the damn door and I'll invite you in like a normal, sane person." She stalked over to her door and yanked it open motioning for the masked crusader to leave. "I'm serious. I'm tired of everybody breaking into my home like they own the damned place. I'll tell you anything you wanna know but your gonna be polite or I'm not saying a word." She grumbled a bit softer this time... was that a smile she saw threatening to stretch Batman's mouth? Slowly, but obediently, the infamous vigilante stepped outside and she shut the door. He waited a beat, perhaps two, before knocking, she opened the door with a false and painfully obvious, smile.

"Please come in won't you? I believe I have a bit of tea somewhere around here, are you hungry?" She heard him shut the door behind him and she set off to her little make-shift kitchen. He followed her.

"No." The first gruff and almost unintelligible word that the masked man spoke. It was cold, calloused and uncaring and Evelette's knees buckled. She braced the counter and leaned forward, hair falling to curtain her face as she took a moment to breathe, he seemed to understand that she needed to re-grasp her bearings. After a moment she gathered herself, stood up straight and poised and flipped her hair back, multi-hued eyes revealed a weary, but hidden strength, begrudgingly Bruce was mildly impressed.

"Look, I'm sorry, my head is screwed on straight, I swear... I grew up an orphan, no one noticed me, no one cared, and I got used to that and to suddenly have the attention of every asshole with a badge number, criminals, and now vigilantes... its a bit overwhelming. I kinda half wish this was all one never-ending nightmare." Her voice was much quieter, but truthful. Batman dipped his head a silent acknowledgment and she sighed. "You didn't come here to listen to my life story, what do you want to know?" She plopped into one of the chairs of her dining room table, a smashing bright purple, and watched as he stayed standing... twas fine with her.

"Your life. I wanna know why he picked you." He grunted and she stiffened, eyeing him wearily once more. She ran in her fingers through her hair and slouched forward, eyes still unadjusted to the ludicrous set-up of her apartment. A part of her passed this whole bizarre encounter off as too much sugar before bed and one hell of a bizarre dream, but as the masked crusader shifted impatiently, eyes hardening as they starred down at her, she knew damn good and well she better start talking. She shrugged her shoulders.

"I'm sure I don't have to repeat my interview, you, from what I've read seem to have pretty good access to Gotham's finest... what do you want to know? That I haven't already told them?" She cocked her head to the side, to tired to relive every detail of her rather dull life. Batman's dark eyes scanned her, studying her, she let him, who the hell was she to stand up to him... the man wore armor for God sakes, what was she gonna do? Punch through steel? Finally he seemed to come to some conclusion and slowly lowered herself in her armchair. Had she not been utterly stressed, tired, confused and a plethora of other wretched emotions she would have laughed at the ridiculous notion gracing her living room, sitting as though for tea in a ghastly green and purple hellish nightmare, as it were, she merely cracked a half smile.

"The Joker said you were different. Special. Why would he say that? Why even save your life in the first place? His victims may never have been sexually assaulted but why would he care if you were?" The harshness of the question made her flinch, because she could still feel the heat and sweat from that fiend. The putrid scent of liquor, piss, and sweat still haunted her dreams. She had woken up more than once in a panic. She sighed and leaned forward.

"I've been called a freak all my life because of my eyes... but I grew up in an orphanage here. Everyone was... is a freak for one reason or another. Lanie had red hair, Kylar had a mole on his left cheek, Monroe had a unibrow and Yannie's teeth weren't straight. We were harsh on each other, I wasn't singled out exclusively and I started my fair share of wars, but that's just how life is in Gotham. I'm not some poor orphan girl, but I'm not high end trophy wife either. I see things for what they are and I don't pretend to be something I'm not... if that makes me special or different than so be it. The Joker may be a lot of things but he saved my life. That may not mean much to you or the rest of Gotham, but it means something to me. Even if the Joker would have gutted me right along with those pigs, I would have had the slightest inkling of respect for him. He at least, had the decency to let me keep whatever little dignity still clings to my name. He saved my life and frankly I really don't care why, I'm grteful that he did it, why he just didn't kill me afterwards I dont know... Is there anything else I can help you with?" She was exhausted... but he wouldn't leave, she wasn't that lucky, she was a suspect now, no longer a victim, that's why he was here. They sent him to dig out the information that the law forbade the police from digging.

"You have to understand how strange this all is to us. The Joker dosen't take interest in anything, much less anyone and not only has he saved your life, he has contacted you more than once, left you gifts, and refurbished your apartment, that seems entirely-" The batman began the lecture in an irritated growl, obviously not satisfied with her full answer, but damn it she didn't know why he had picked her, hell she didn't even know if he was coming back and she was getting tired of being treated like a second class citizen, just because they didn't like the situation, she liked it even less and without warning she snapped and cut him off.

"The Joker is a human. Beneath the mask, the grease paint, the suit of horribly contrasting colors, he's a human. A living, breathing, warm blooded male. You and the police force are the ones that glorify him, make him something else. It's you that turn him into a monster, a demon, a soulless freak. He's not any of that, just as you aren't just as Gordon isn't. In your own ways, you all wear a costume, you all wear a mask. Gordon's has to be a face the people can trust, yours hides an identity, the Joker's strikes both fear and uncertainty. You wear black, Gordon, blue, the Joker purple and green and while you each do what you do for a different cause, you are all human. Not one of you is untouchable. No matter how many weapons, grease paint, or bullet proof vests you wear. All three of you bleed the exact same color and perhaps if you would view him as a human, an intelligent, free-thinking man, you might have a hope in hell at catching him rather that harassing innocent people who don't know anything more than my bed now has a goose down blanket in the brightest shade of purple I have ever seen." She huffed, finishing her rant with a grunt. Frustrated, she rose from her seated position, over to the cracking door frame that encased her balcony. Silence reigned and her temper slowly simmered down. The crusader, remained surprisingly quiet, she had half expected to meet his fist.

"He's killed hundreds of people, cackling and laughing all the while. You don't think that makes a monster? You would condone such behavior, protect him even? If there's anything your not saying, you'll go right down with him. Twenty-five to life for conspiracy. I'll make sure of it." Batman snarled, his voice a rough rumble and she turned on him, mismatched eyes narrowing fiercely.

"I was almost gang raped. They would have killed me and not one of you would have batted so much as an eyelash at my murder. My corpse would have been another nameless victim, another tally to add to a poll and life would have moved on. The Joker saved my life. _Saved. My. Life._ I condone nothing he has done, but if he cares enough to keep me breathing then he certainly is no demonic entity. Where were you when they were clawing off my clothes? Where was the police force when they drooled all over my flesh like rabid dogs... nowhere. Because these are the slums and you don't care about us low lives and neither do they. You pretend to care, but only because I might have some horrid secret, some hidden knowledge on the Joker. Take DNA tests, a polygraph, fingerprints, search my apartment, my workplace, my bank account, I have nothing to hide." She snapped right back. Confidence and adrenaline swirled through her veins in a potent cocktail, she had been nothing but cooperative, and they had been nothing but cruel, save for Gordon. "I don't know anything about him, not a name, not a location, not even an obscure phone number. The Joker does what the Joker wants, no one, especially me, is going to change that." She was sick... sick and tired of everybody assuming that she was somehow his undercover accomplice. She was barely above a street urchin, nothing more, nothing less.

In a split second a fist of iron had coiled around her neck and her body was lifted, smashed into the thin wall that buckled and groaned under the sudden impact. She gasped, eyes flying wide as her trachea collapsed. Her pupils dilated and instinctively she clawed futily at an armored arm in a desperate attempt to free that iron grip. Furious brown eyes were slanted into a look of pure hatred mere inches from her own.

"I will. If there is one slip-up, one minute detail you aren't telling me... you'll be sorry." The words were acid, oozing from his mouth and dripping into her flesh, she shivered from the absolute loathing that poured for him, but she didn't have the appropriate amount of oxygen to respond. Her vision was darkening and her brain wasn't getting an adequate oxygen flow to spit out a sarcastic response. She thought for a moment that Batman would kill her, would snap her pretty little neck like the papers claimed he did to Harvey. She was slipping into a painful black oblivion, lungs screaming and body quivering as her lips and gums slowly lost the healthy shade of pink and replacing it with a sick purple, when several things happened at once. Out of the very corner of her eye she saw the purple door slide open without a sound and none other than the object of attention waltzed into her apartment. Dark eyes shot directly to the dangerous commotion and in a split second he was upon them. Just before the last pinpricks of solid vision left her, She registered the solid clang of metal against metal and suddenly her windpipe was restored to her. She crumbled to the earth in a soulless heap, hand automatically rising to her bruising throat as blessed oxygen filled her lungs.

She was vaguely aware of the intense battle, the clashing of metal and shouts of laughter accompanied by the crunching, shattering and crying of the furniture, but at the moment she was far too preoccupied with her returning faculties than any dumb skirmish. Shakily grasping at nothing the woman hauled herself up just in time to be snagged, an arm of utter strength coiling around her abused body for the second time today and a blade dancing teasingly against her carotid artery. She froze, even being oxygen deprived she knew she was right back to square one, trapped by the most wanted man in all of Gotham. Vision still fuzzy she watched Batman freeze, perhaps his intention hadn't been to kill her, only to terrify the crap out of her. Congrats to him, he sure as hell succeeded. The Joker's breath was hot and thick against her neck as he dragged her backwards towards the front door. With each exhale, he almost growled... great.

"You should learn not to..._play_ with other people's toys Batsy. Some people... don't share _well_." The blade slipped to a few superficial veins and a few drops of cherry colored blood oozed from her wounded flesh. Batman looked on with concern, apparently his tune had changed. "Tsk. I knew you had a mean streak but uh..." She heard his tongue wet his lips, the sloppy, almost slurping noise making an involuntary shiver trace her spine. "Chocking somebody is quite personal... have a vendetta against the girl?" He sneered cruel and taunting, the blade pressing further into her skin in his excitement. Out of the frying pan and into the fire? "Or maybe thats just jealousy, you got to her but not to Harvey's little squeeze!" He broke into hysterical laughter and she winced, flinching as the jarring of his fingers tore tiny cuts all across her trembling flesh. One look at the Batman showed a rage, a fury that she had never before seen and personally she couldn't quite decide who she feared more, quite possibly the self-proclaimed hero. As unpredictable as Joker was, he hadn't shown any true attempt at hurting her.

"Let her go. She's not yours Joker." The raspy voice came cold and calloused, not a freckle of emotion, he stood like some heathen god, intimidating and all powerful and the Joker laughed in his face, insane giggles spilling forth from his throat.

"She's not yours either Batsy! And I've saved her _twice_! I think I know why you do it... _no... wait_... that was just the pleasure of smashing in your head with aluminum _bat_." He snapped the t with a click of his tongue, a grin wide enough to stretch his scars from ear to ear planting itself on his face. Batman scowled and went to move closer and he pressed the blade in harder. She swore she felt that pulsing artery shrivel and quake in a desperate attempt to run from the blade. Blood loss or asphyxiation! Oh the choices she got to make! As Batman made another move to step forward and quite possibly end her life, the Joker tutted once more, his arm suddenly vanishing from around her waist and withdrawing a small black device with a few switches. "Atatata! If you don't want your precious buddy... _Gordon_... going up in flames..." His voice clowny and whimsical suddenly dropped several octaves into a deep rumbling, and utterly terrifying snarl. "Stop trying to take what's_ mine_. Choose wisely Batsy."

To his credit, the caped Crusader looked incredibly torn, save her... or his dearest friend. There was hesitation and apprehension swirling in the depths of those dark eyes, and despite herself she felt an inkling of pity for him. Just like the Joker, beneath all that armor and presence, he was still just a man. Poor guy probably made decisions like this on a daily basis. She was snapped out of silent musings when a leather hand stroked the hair out of her face, terrified as she was, it took all of her willpower not to flinch. The Batman twitched ever so slightly, obviously itching to step forward, but it was clear he would not be her savior. Joker hummed into her ear.

"Don't fret _baby girl_... Batsy has to choose Gordon over your pretty face, Gordon's better for _Gotham_... or so he thinks." The rumbling voice was almost soothing in its delivery, but his words rung true despite the weariness in the caped crusaders eyes. He shifted his attention from the criminal to her. She saw the regret gleaming in his eyes, genuine and pure. She forgave him for the bruises forming about her neck.

"I will save you. I will find him and I will free you, you have my word." The deep gravely voice was anything but reassuring, they both knew she wasn't likely to see the next few sunrises. She shifted her eyes, looking away from him, when she was pulled flush against the Joker's powerful torso, she could feel his abdominal muscles tensing and pulling against her back. He was so entirely strong. She swallowed hard and felt the sting of the blade, and then... her vision of her sparkling bizarre apartment was gone as a leather glove clasped over her eyes and she was roughly dragged backwards. Stumbling and tripping as the Joker all but shoved her through the familiar hallways she struggled to keep from having a panic attack. It was bad enough that he had broken into her apartment, but now he was taking her somewhere and that she wasn't too keen on. The clanking of the large steel door that kept the apartment complex seperated from the rest of the world rang in her ears and she could smell the slightly less polluted air as they stepped outside, and not two seconds later the scent of gasoline, sweat and metal found her sensitive nose as she was shoved into the back of what she presumed was a van.

Her heart rate dropped only slightly as her mind informed her that there was no longer a knife dancing with her neck, but she quickly squashed that small bit of euphoria as she forced her stupid brain to comprehend that she was being kidnapped. Wide, terrified eyes darted around the darkened van, the windows, if there were any, had been reinforced with steel plates and the two men in the front were well trained on the rode before them, not even offering her a glance as the Joker clambered in behind her, slamming the two back doors shut and destroying her last subtle view of freedom.

"Go. _Drive."_ The snarl was dark and dared them to disobey. It seemed the two had enough brain cells to simply do as commanded and with the crunching of gravel beneath the tires, the heavy van pulled off and away. She groaned, sitting up slightly and dragging her legs beneath her and for the second time her hand rose to her neck to determine the injuries. Not horrible, but they definitely stung. She could handle scrapes. She blinked a few times trying to get her vision to swim back to her and almost jumped when she noticed the Joker hovering mere inches from her face watching her with apparent curiosity.

"I think... you have me beat two to one on the whole... saving my life thing." She winced at the rather mean throb of pain her trachea gave as she spoke and the raspy, scratching in her voice. Geez... how hard did the vigilante squeeze? The Joker frowned, obviously displeased. Whether it was because he hadn't been the one to cause that hurt, or because he cared ( she mentally keeled over laughing at that ridiculous notion) she didn't know. Leather clad fingers coiled around her jaw in an iron cage and she went rigid and still. He moved her face from side to side, examining her, a sense of deja vu washing over her as she remembered him doing this three weeks ago. This time, wisely she kept her mouth shut.

"Ha. He. Ha. Ha. Ho. No..._doll_." He drawled, his voice deep but no longer an angered snarl. "I..._saved_...you. The _flying rodent_ beat you." His breath wafted across her face and she shivered. She had never gotten physically close to anyone, and he had no problem shattering her little happy bubble. "Did he do anything else to you...Evie?" He drawled her name in a low growl, demanding an answer, her eyes darted to the front of the van, trying to make out something familiar through the windshield, but quickly she discovered that was a mistake as fingers tightened to the point of pain and forcefully careened her head back around.

"No... No. No. Ma _girl_... you are _mine_. Don't pay attention to them." A venomous hiss, a snarl of possession. She swallowed thickly and forced herself to focus. She shook her head complacently back and forth. She dreaded speech but a touch of soreness in her muscles was better than his fist or blade in her stomach.

"No... he asked me about my life... and then about you, he got angry because I.. I defended you." Her two toned eyes remained locked on his while she spoke, so he could see she wasn't lying, so he could see the turmoil of emotions swirling in their depths, he seemed to relax ever so slightly when she did this. Maybe it was honest? Surprise that he did not try to hide flickered through his dark eyes, but slowly an amused grin curled his lips upward and a soft giggle escaped from the back of his throat. His right hand released her and quite vainly ran through his greasy locks, brushing the strands backwards as his tongue escaped his mouth to lick at the corners of his scarred mouth.

"You defended _me_?" The Joker's voice took a false high quality as one hand drifted to his chest. "And what were you defending doll? My _dashingly_ good looks? Was Batsy jealous that he didn't have his own set of matching beauty _marks_? " A gloved finger flickered over the gruesome carvings on his face and despite herself, she giggled softly, an almost invisible smile crossing her face at his silly antics, but she was quick to answer.

"As absolutely gorgeous as you are..." She drawled, finding her own sense of humor quite quickly. "I was defending the fact that you saved my life." That seemed to surprise him a little and his gaze jumped back and forth between her eyes, studying her, analyzing her. It made her uneasy to have someone so entirely focused on her, but after a moment he grinned, fingers reaching to coil around her chin again... damn. Couldn't she have just played along and lied?

"Save you? Pretty doll... I didn't save you." That low ferocious snarl had returned and a wild, crazed glint lit the back of his eyes as he loomed over her, menacing and strong and she swore her poor heart forgot that it was supposed to beat as fear settled in the pit of her belly. "I merely took what was already _mine." _Before she could comprehend or question that dark, sin-filled promise, something heavy and hard crashed into her skull and her world swam out of focus, body falling unresponsive and limp to the bottom of the van.


End file.
